


Passing Days

by scarletbegonias37



Category: God’s Own Country, God’s Own Country (2017)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:08:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletbegonias37/pseuds/scarletbegonias37
Summary: Gheorghe has John on the brain due to an upcoming important occasion.





	Passing Days

**Author's Note:**

> I agree with other fans & writers that Gheorghe thinks of Johnny as “John”, so that’s what he’s called in scenes that are from Gheorghe’s POV.

Their relationship had developed far too quickly, admittedly, but the circumstances demanded it, and Gheorghe wasn't one to hold back when he felt something, anyway. If there's anything his time on earth had taught him, it was that life is short and offers plenty of opportunity for suffering, so if something made you truly and deeply happy, you should hold onto it.

Nonetheless, Gheorghe was feeling guilty. Being that John was due to be his husband in a matter of weeks, surely he should have some idea of what to give him for his birthday.

He did know John well enough to know that he wouldn't want to be fussed over. John had not mentioned anything about it, naturally, and Gheorghe wouldn't have even discovered the date if he hadn't been looking at Deidre's calendar for potential wedding days -- not that the ceremony needed planning; they were just going to go to the courthouse, but it needed to be after the last hay harvest, when the farm could spare all four of them for most of the day, and when Martin didn't have any medical appointments. (Deidre had insisted they would attend because "you'll need witnesses", but Gheorghe knew full well that she would never let her only grandson get married without being there, and she'd probably cry and blame it on an allergy attack.)

There it was, a circled date with "J's birthday" in Deidre's unmistakable neat penmanship. Gheorghe would have been surprised that John had not brought it up, except that he realized that a motherless little boy with a family who were not the party-throwing kind had probably never had any reason to particularly love birthdays.

Still, he wanted to give him something. John resisted attention and care, but he also clearly craved it, needed it, and reveled in it when he got it.

Gheorghe didn't have a ton of money to spend -- the Saxbys had initially insisted on continuing to pay him wages when he returned, and knowing that they could not afford it, in return, he insisted upon paying them rent. They then insisted that he take a cut of the profits of the animals they sold at market, and he insisted upon chipping in for farm supplies and any new equipment purchased. It all ended up about evening out, and once Gheorghe had agreed to marry John, he'd suggested that they all give up the pretense of exchanging money back and forth, admit they were all in this together, and just put everything back into the farm, where it all basically ended up anyway.

The family still refused to take any of the profits from the sheep's milk cheese, though, pointing out that Gheorghe did all the work of making it and selling it at the farmer's market, and eventually he accepted that under the reasoning that he did need to earn some money in order to be independent and not a burden to them. So, he was building up a bit of savings now, on top of what he sent home to his mother in Romania.

But money wasn't the issue, anyway. John wasn't materialistic in the slightest, and he'd turn his nose up at any kind of lavish gift. He scorned things he deemed "fancy", didn't like to eat expensive meals out, didn't buy new clothes until the old ones were literally falling off his back. No, it was definitely the thought that counted with John. He'd been absolutely delighted when Gheorghe picked him a simple bunch of wildflowers one day, the most gratifying response to ten seconds of labor Gheorghe had ever gotten. He really wanted to see that wide, surprised, glowing smile again. So he had to think of something that wasn't elaborate but still showed how much John stayed on his mind.

But what would John even want?

He didn't have any hobbies to speak of, now that he'd (thankfully) quit recreational binge drinking. Granted, his work life didn't leave him a lot of time to spare, but hanging around the pub had been one of the few things he spent his free hours doing. Currently, he preferred to spend that time cuddling with and fucking Gheorghe instead, which Gheorghe certainly had no complaints about, but still, he made a mental note that he needed to draw John out about his interests more, or encourage him to develop new ones -- especially with winter coming, when it would be cold and boring and there'd be more time available.

John would kick a ball around with Gheorghe sometimes, but other than that, he didn't seem to play or follow any sports. He wasn't much into any kind of art or movies, though he'd accompany Gheorghe to the cinema once in a blue moon (and annoy him by whispering questions in his ear for most of the film). He never read for pleasure, just skimmed the newspaper, mostly looking for farm equipment sales and estate auctions. On the rare occasions he listened to music, anything on the radio was fine with him, even screechy British pop that sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Gheorghe (who preferred classic rock).

What did John even like? Gheorghe went through the list. He liked sex, of course, and despite his reluctance to kiss during their initial encounter, now he loved to make out for hours like a giddy teenager -- Gheorghe definitely planned to do both those things with him on his birthday, but that didn't count as a present when they were still in a honeymoon phase and pouncing on each other constantly.

What else? John liked animals, though he had made a fake show of being indifferent, even cold toward them when Gheorghe had first arrived on the farm. He was especially fond of his own animals -- Gheorghe frequently caught him petting them, talking to them, and giving them nicknames when he thought no one was looking. It was a little weird, but it was also adorable. But, John also seemed to have an affinity for living creatures in general. He'd watch any old documentary on TV that was about animals, even if it was dull or badly made. He actually got excited at the one about migrating penguins, because of how fast they swam. And he'd teared up at one about a refuge for orphaned baby elephants, claiming there was dust in his eyes.

John liked riding his motorbike, but he already had one, so didn't need another; he liked swimming, but it was hard to get a relevant gift for that. He liked sweets, but Deidre already had that covered; he'd seen where she had ingredients for a cake stored in the back of the pantry. What else?

Gheorghe pondered further. He was a little dismayed to realize that what John very obviously liked the most of anything was Gheorghe himself, and perhaps he'd been enjoying that fact a little too much. Not that it was a bad thing, but John could use some other stress-relieving activities in his life. Gheorghe reminded himself again to encourage John to do something nice and enjoyable for himself once in a while. It would be good for him, especially since stress-related medical conditions ran in his family.

Gheorghe had a sudden vision of John doing yoga, his long gangly legs pretzeled into a lotus position, pressing his hands together and saying "Namaste". Gheorghe laughed out loud at the image. Okay, maybe a gift certificate to the House of Zen would not do.

Actually, looking around their room as he picked up the laundry, one idea did spring to mind. It would take a little time, and he'd need to borrow some supplies from Deidre, which meant swearing her to secrecy, but that was no problem at all. That woman could take a secret to her grave, and was probably already holding onto quite a few that she fully intended to have buried with her.

***

Deidre readily agreed to loan him what he needed, and he could find the final piece at the farmer's market. Gheorghe walked past the craft booths, thinking about what John's favorite color was. Most of his nicest clothes and shoes were maroon or black, but that just meant he had worn them less because he didn't like them as much. Gray was too boring. Gheorghe was tempted to pick green, because that was the color he himself thought looked nicest on John, setting off his pale skin, and his ocean-blue eyes, and his pink lips -- Gheorghe got a little distracted remembering how John's lips reddened when Gheorghe kissed and nibbled them, or when John himself bit his lower one shyly. He was getting a little hard just thinking about it. He was struck with the urge to get back home immediately and, hopefully, find John in some quiet corner of the farm where he could lay that pale firm body out on the green grass and do delicious things to it. Better wrap this up quick.

Just then his eye landed on a particular color, and he knew that he didn’t have to spend any more time looking. Not quite a royal blue, not a navy, but something in between. Yes, that was John’s favorite. He paid for the goods quickly and headed home, fantasies of John’s gasping and moaning voice playing in his head all the way there. He couldn't wait to make them a reality as soon as possible.

***

Johnny woke up and stretched, reaching for Gheorghe as he always did, disappointed when he touched nothing but the empty sheets. Gheorghe must have headed out to the farmer's market early this morning, and Johnny had slept later than he usually did, probably because Gheorghe had shagged him thoroughly last night with particular fervor, until his eyes rolled back in his head — and when he’d barely recovered, insisted upon blowing him too. Several earth-shattering orgasms in one night was excessive, but it felt like Gheorghe was trying to tell him something with his actions, so Johnny had gone with it. He was wrung out, worn out, and overjoyed.

Johnny sighed and rolled over onto his back. It was exhausting, sometimes, being this much in love, but it was also energizing and exhilarating. He squirmed with pleasure, still thinking of the previous evening, and was surprised when he felt a rustling weight at the foot of the bed.

Sitting up, he saw a package wrapped neatly in tissue paper, with a blue bow wrapped around it. Johnny had completely forgotten his own birthday -- beyond reaching the age where he could vote, drink, and buy tobacco, he'd never had much use for the day, to be honest. Deidre always gave him something very practical, even when he was a kid, like a bike that he could ride to school on so no one would have to drive him, or a new pair of boots, and Martin usually gave him something that didn't make any sense at all (once, when Johnny was 14 and hadn't even thought about smoking yet, he'd given him an antique carved wooded pipe). This didn't look like either of their handiwork. Anything they gave him would be wrapped in plain newspaper or not wrapped at all.

Johnny was touched to his core when he ripped off the paper and saw that the present was a blue jumper, with the same mottled pattern as Gheorghe's red one, obviously carefully handmade, warm and soft. He picked up the card, which he hadn't seen at first, and read:

_J --_

_So you won't keep stealing mine. Happy birthday. I love you._

_\-- G_

Johnny grinned and pressed his face into the jumper, flopping back down happily. It was perfect. Gheorghe was perfect. How had he, who'd always considered himself one of the unluckiest people he knew, somehow stumbled on such a piece of fortune?

***

Gheorghe was pleased to see that John was wearing the jumper when he returned. When he heard the truck pull up, John leaned out of the window of the hayloft and grinned down at Gheorghe as he got out.

"I'm still going to steal yours, you know," he said, trying to sound cheeky and nonplussed, but his big, goofy grin was undercutting him. "I steal it because it smells like you."

"If I come up there in a minute that one will smell like me soon too," Gheorghe smiled back.

"Can't wait." John leaned against the windowsill, looking dreamy.

"I'm also taking you out to eat tonight," Gheorghe said, adding quickly, when he saw John's face fall a bit, "To the fish and chips restaurant. Don't worry. I wasn't going to take you anywhere with linen tablecloths. I know what you like."

"You definitely do," John conceded. "When did you even find time to make this, anyway? We're always together."

"Not all of us fall into a dead sleep immediately after sex," Gheorghe smiled, and John laughed agreeably. He always did do that, in under a minute. "You snore, too," Gheorghe added.

"Do not!" John exclaimed in mock protest, but he was still giggling.

"I have one more present," Gheorghe began a little hesitantly. This one was a risk, but if it paid off, it would be worth it. He unzipped his jacket a few inches, and a fawn-colored kitten popped its head out, its fur sticking up in comical tufts.

"Oh my god!" John slapped a hand over his mouth, and disappeared from the window. In a few seconds he had dropped down the ladder from the loft and come running outside.

"Are you cross?" Gheorghe said, concerned. He knew John loved animals, but he really wasn't sure how he felt about actual pets.

"You got me a kitty," John squeaked out in his most boyish tone, and plucked the kitten out of Gheorghe's jacket, cradling it in his big mitt-like hands.

"Actually," Gheorghe glanced down as another kitten, this one calico, began scrambling its way out of his jacket. "I got two. I didn't want them to be lonely."

He shouldn't have worried. John looked like he was about to cry with happiness, and he reached for the other kitten as well, rubbing them both against his face.

"They won't be any trouble," Gheorghe continued, though, just in case. "They can stay in the barn, and they'll keep all those mice out of the hay."

"Absolutely not," John said, clinging the kittens protectively against his chest. "We'll let them hunt in there but they'll stay with us. I LOVE cats," he said without hesitation, and Gheorghe was pleased to hear him say that word about anything without doubt or reluctance. John continued, "Nan loves them too. I had one from when I was a kid until a few years ago, but she died and I didn't have the heart to replace her right away."

"What did you call her?" Gheorghe asked with a knowing smile.

"Mrs. Whiskers. Don't judge me," John replied with his eyes closed, still cuddling the kittens blissfully. It was exactly the face Gheorghe had hoped to see, and he silently congratulated himself on a job well done. "What should we call these ones?"

"The calico one can be Gypsy and the brown one can be Yorkie," Gheorghe said, grinning harder.

John cringed. "I can't decide if that's awful or perfect. I'll consider it." His face returned to its beatific smile just before he leaned over and kissed Gheorghe deeply, the kittens wriggling and mewing between them.

Many, many things about John were still a mystery to Gheorghe; he was a puzzle only partially solved, and he could and probably would spend a lifetime figuring him out. But he knew that if he stayed patient, and kept showing him how much he cared about him, the once-guarded man would continue opening up to him, bit by bit, like a flower opening towards the sun in the spring. And he knew, as their lips touched, that John felt both the light and the heat, the same way he did.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is legitimately the most fluffy thing I have ever written but I couldn’t resist the idea of Gheorghe with a kitten poking out his jacket! I’m weak and soft.
> 
> Working on one more Gheorghe POV fic & also will consider story prompts/requests if you leave them in the comments below. J&G forever.


End file.
